


DROWNING - in the Sea of Love

by Hana_Salith



Category: Supernatural
Genre: DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hana_Salith/pseuds/Hana_Salith
Summary: New York detective Dean Winchester investigates a serial killer looking for his victims through blind dates in an LGBTQ + bar.  With the help of his small team, Samuel, Charlie and Garth, the detective creates a plan to find the killer using himself as bait.But when Dean falls in love with his main suspect, Castiel Novak, he struggles to reconcile his personal life and his professional duty.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's been years since I posted anything so I'm sorry if it looks a little strange.  
> I had no beta so again forgiveness if you have errors.
> 
> Of course, none of these characters belong to me (unfortunately), because if they were mine for sure, the series would not have that lewd ending. Lol
> 
> I hope you like it ♥
> 
> English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake.

Dean opened the door to the small apartment he couldn't call his own.

He walked through the darkness toward a bottle of Jack Daniels that sat on a small table in the corner of the room, next to the big window.

Without bothering with a glass, he opened the bottle and took a long drink.

He knew it was wrong, he knew that, deep down, what he did was to punish myself for something that was not his fault.

Your divorce.

There, in the darkness and with his throat burning from drinking, Dean was silent, trying to fill the void that dominated him, until he went to bed and slept in a restless dream.

He had been married for five years. Lisa, a doctor he had met during one of her cases in Washington, charmed him with her wide smile and quick jokes. She looked like the right woman, so as soon as he had a chance Dean proposed to her.

The party had been discreet and quick, as had the request. And the first years until they went well.

Until the void reaches Dean Winchester again.

Dean felt it long before Lisa, before the fights, the betrayal and the inevitable divorce.

That darkness that corroded inside, seemed to have been born with him and was a mixture of mixed feelings.

He missed something he never had, as if a piece of his existence was missing, a longing for something he never lived.

A nostalgia that swallowed his feelings making him distant and cold.

When he met Lisa, he believed she would fill his craving for love with her sweet voice and black hair, so he thought that marrying her would resolve everything quickly, he would no longer feel pain and be complete the first time.

He was very wrong.

When he saw his marriage rot, he didn't have the courage to react, because he knew that much of it was his fault.

His feelings acted like a drug, sinking him into an endless addiction.

His thoughts swallowed him up and he was never there.

With his soul away, Dean moved his body away too, so he spent more time working than at home, always with excuses about how important his job was and that he couldn't do anything to avoid it.

So when she asked him for a divorce he didn't look for answers, he knew it was because he wasn't good enough to be loved.

Dean was a NY police investigator, so when Lisa got a lover at the hospital he not only knew it, but was also relieved by that.

He didn't have the courage to end a relationship like that, but he knew that Lisa was more courageous.

So he just waited for the ultimatum, which didn't take long to arrive.

He moved to a small apartment near where he worked.

A year had passed and there were still things in boxes, as if they had just arrived.

And every night he followed the same ritual.

He didn't turn on the lights, as it would just make it more obvious that he was alone and that there was no one waiting for him.

He went to the bottle and drank almost half of it in silence, watching the cars rush by on his street.

After that he would go off in his bed or often on the sofa.

He woke up the next day and after taking some headache pills he went to the police station.

Dean Winchester was famous, considered one of the best investigators in NY, the most complex cases ended up in his hands.

Everyone respected him, for his focus and determination, but nobody really was his friend, in fact he only had one friend, Charlie but besides her nobody knew what was going on behind that serious mask.

The morning of September 5 felt like another ordinary day for Dean.

Again with a hangover from hell he arrived at the police station and came across a tall man with long brown hair, waiting for him at his table.

"Can I help you?"

Dean said in a curious tone.

"Dean?"

Said the man smiling and extending his hand.

"Yes and you are?"

Dean said seriously shaking the other's hand.

"Samuel. You can call me Sam. I'm from the Washington department, I came here personally, because I think we have a big problem on our hands. ”

––––

“A Serial Killer? You must be kidding. ”

Dean's voice was a mixture of tiredness and disbelief.

Samuel had a folder in his hand, looking for the details to better explain the whole situation.

"Unfortunately not. A week ago you found a man murdered with a gunshot to the head, right?

He was naked, face down on the bed. The house was completely tidy and the victim's cell phone was playing music… ”

"Sea of Love"

"Excuse me?"

Samuel looked up with a confused expression.

"The song is called Sea of Love."

Dean replied looking at the table between them. They were sitting in his office and he had called Robert Singer the head of the NY investigation department to find them.

"Exactly. In Washington we had two homicides that follow the same pattern. Naked man, face down on the bed, shot in the head and somewhere in the house this song was playing.

The first victim was on a record player and on the second, the computer was on, playing the song in a loop. ”

“And now that son of a bitch came here. "

A serious, middle-aged man entered the room. His eyes are kind and strong, together with his short white beard, gave an air of wisdom and confidence.

"Language! You use that mouth to kiss your mother?"

Said the man patting Dean on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

"I don't kiss dead people." - Dean said without any emotion - "Bobby this is Sam, from Washington and he has great news for you."

“Robert Singer? We spoke on the phone, he told me to look for you Dean. ”

Sam stood up as he spoke and shook Robert's hand, who smiled, but then sighed in concern.

“So, we have a possible Serial Killer in New York and none of us want this to be a problem, right?

So here is the solution, I already spoke with the Washington department and Sam will stay with us, this will be a joint investigation, but we cannot draw attention, as I honestly do not want this to leak. ”

Robert spoke quickly, walking around the small room.

Dean and Sam watch him closely.

“You two choose a small team, I said small did you hear Winchester?

And try to resolve this once and for all. ”

Before Dean could complain about how he would choose a small team, a knock was heard.

"Come in! "

Shouted Dean. 

A boy came in a little nervous to see all those people gathered.

"Sorry to bother you, but we had another murder"

"Where? "

Bobby asked, standing still for the first time since entering the room.

“In the city center, a neighbor who found him said that the sound was very loud since dawn and when she woke up she decided to knock on the door to complain, saw that it was open, went in and then found the body in the room. "

“And how was he? "

Sam asked a little nervous.

"Naked, shot in the head ..."

“And let me guess, he was facedown in the bed, right? "

Asked Dean.

“That's right. "

"Great."

Dean said irritably and stood up with Sam.

“Go, we'll finish the conversation later. "

Bobby said.

Sam and Dean left the room towards the parking lot, both in silence and in quick steps.

“Are you going to use a car? "

Sam asked looking around and seeing several vehicles stopped at the scene.

"Yes! Mine. "

Dean replied walking towards a long car that was in the back of the lot.

It was a black Impala 67, a rare jewel that Dean had inherited from his father, in fact, the only good thing he had received from him, since the rest was just trauma.

Sam smiled when he saw the car.

“Beautiful. "

"I know, it's my Baby."

Dean came in with a smile on his face and Sam sat beside him watching the inside of the classic car and in less than ten minutes they were already on the streets of NY stuck in a surreal traffic jam.

While honking without control Dean said loud and clear.

“Son of a bitch! "


	2. The Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam, investigate a new death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again forgive any mistake, because the crazy here has no beta and always rewriting things kkkk  
>  Enjoy!  
>  ♥

Sam couldn't keep silent all the way, he wasn't used to NY traffic jams, the car had been standing in the same place for ten minutes!  
He cleared his throat and looked at Dean who seemed lost in thought.

“So, are you a fan of classic cars? "

Dean seemed startled by the question, as if for a few moments he had forgotten that there was someone beside him.

"Ah, I'm not really a fan of cars, just this one."

Sam smiled looking at the back seat where there was a moving box.

“Are you still moving? "

Dean knew that Sam was trying to be nice, he was the well-known good cop, intelligent, talkative and with a big smile.  
He gained people's confidence in the conversation and he sure as hell should be excellent at questioning.  
But it had been a long time since Dean had actually spoken to anyone.  
As he listened to Sam speak, he wondered if he still knew how to carry on a conversation.

"Not really, I always forget that box."

"Ah understood. "

Silence reigned in the car.  
Dean still had a big headache because of the large amount of alcohol he had drunk on an empty stomach and thought he was no longer able to have trivial conversations since his divorce.  
After all the confusion, only one person remained at his side was Charlie.  
Charlie was the only one left to call a friend.  
She had been his person of honor.  
She gave the wedding speech and was dressed in a tuxedo because it was her dream.

"Do you think Lisa is going to bother?"

He remembered Charlie walking into his office and asking this question and his big eyes full of insecurity.

“Char .... You are my person. There is no one in this world that I trust more than you. If you want to go dressed as a giraffe, you go dressed as a giraffe! "

Dean smiled at that memory.  
It had been really fun to see Charlie in a tuxedo and still getting a date with one of Lisa's bridesmaids.  
And when everything went bad, Charlie stayed by his side, bringing beers and bad sci-fi movies to the newly rented apartment, everything to make Dean smile a little. 

Sam seemed to respect his space and only spoke when he saw the building.

"Dean I think it's this building over here."

Said the tallest looking at the GPS of the cell phone.

"Okay, let's see what the fuck happened."

The two got out of the car and Sam spoke in a low tone.

“I'm going to talk to the porter first okay? I'll meet you up there. ”

This was really the proof that Sam was the Good Cop, Dean didn't have the patience to ask questions, in the investigation the part he liked was the evidence and his direct answers.  
People? Definitely not. People lied and he hated lies.

Dean went straight to the elevator while Sam said the porter a warm good morning.  
When the mirrored doors closed, his reflection showed how tired he looked.  
His face was a little battered, his beard was unshaven, dark circles In your eyes deeper than before. He really had no idea how long could last living that way.  
Before another thought came to mind, the doors opened and he saw movement in the corridor.  
The cops seemed scattered and laughter echoed. It didn't look like there was a murder there. His irritation grew and he hadn't even started work.

"Is this a fucking party?"

The men fell silent when they heard Dean's strong, dry tone.

Without another word he entered the apartment and found two policemen talking to a lady who was probably the neighbor who found the body.  
But instead of talking about the situation, the subject was revenue.  
Seeing such disregard for the life lost in that place Dean exploded.

"Get out of here. All of you!"

The scream had been so unexpected that everyone in the apartment was startled and without saying anything else left quickly.

Sam entered the scene, looking confusedly at the cops leaving.

"Dean, couldn't they be useful?"

Asked the tallest one following the other who was heading towards the crime room.

"Unless you want fried chicken recipes, I highly doubt it."

Sam smiled but before he could say anything, he fell silent.

The room was extremely tidy, as at all other times. The man, whom he had identified as Joseph Smith, 34, was naked and facedown on the bed, his head was a red mass on the sheet.  
Even after so long on that job, Sam hadn't gotten used to seeing scenes like that.

"It looks like our darling attacked again."

Dean spoke in a low voice. He also couldn't get used to death, even though that was the basis of his work.

There was not much to be analyzed, the apartment looked impeccable that even at other times, if it weren't for the lifeless body on the bed, it just seemed like a common place.

"Dean, look at this."

Sam, who had turned his attention to the room, pointed to an ashtray full of cigarette stubs.

"It looks like our boy was nervous before he died."

Said Dean going to the living room with Sam and watching the huge amount of cigarettes left behind.

"This is the point. There are two types of cigarettes here and smokers generally do not mix brands. How likely is it that our killer was nervous? ”

Dean agreed as he headed towards the kitchen, trying to find something out of the ordinary.

"We will take it for analysis."

Stopping in front of the refrigerator, a small paper caught his eye.

"Sam, do you know a place called The Barn?"

The paper looked like a small, discreet invitation. On the back there was a number and a space to write something.

“No Dean, I'm new here, did you forget? But nothing we can't find out ... ”

Dean smiled internally, really forgetting that Sam had just arrived in NY. He felt so comfortable with the other cop that they seemed like longtime friends.

Sam took out his cell phone and after a quick search said it out loud.

“The Barn is a lgbtq + bar well known in this neighborhood. On Friday nights, Frigay happens to be a blind date, where those interested write small poems on the back of the invitations, which contains the number of the table they are at, so whoever is interested in the poem goes to the corresponding table and start a conversation. ”

Dean returned to the room with the invitation in his hands.

“Frigay? I really loved that name! ”

Dean laughed a little and Sam smiled too.

"Dean, I think it would be better for us to go back and make our team, we need to have a plan."

Dean nodded in agreement, he really had no idea what to do.

–––

Dean was in his office talking to Bobby on the phone trying not to look excited.

"How can I only choose one?"

“Winchester, you and Sam are already two, choose someone you trust and Sam will do the same, there are already four people and of course, everyone in the lab will be available to you. But nothing else. ”

Before Dean could complain again, Sam knocked on the glass door in the living room and came in with a folder in his hand.

"Dean?"

"Okay Bobby, it will be a great team of four you can be sure of!"

Before Robert could answer Dean hung up the phone.

“Sam, what do we have? "

“Team of four? "

"Well, Bobby said that our team has to be reduced so we both will choose someone to trust and go to get the serial killer, now please tell me you have good news."

“So, yes, I have good news! They found two types of DNA in cigarettes, one from our victim and another from an unknown man. "

“Great, you could be our killer. "

"And there's one more thing ..."

"Say it... "

Dean took a small bottle of vodka from his drawer and opened it, taking a long drink from it.

"While waiting for the results of the laboratory, I went to analyze the social networks of the other victims and I think I found a connection between them."

“Are you kidding? That's great!"

Dean smiled as he finished the small bottle of vodka in another sip.  
Sam was really impressed with the speed at which the other managed to drink that liquid that looked terrible, but ignored the thought and kept talking.

"All of them, even the victims of my case, were here in NY and visited the same place."

"The same place?"

"Yes, The Barn."

Dean and Sam talked for over an hour. Choosing just one person to trust was not easy.

“There is an ex-partner who recently moved here, a great agent, intelligent, very focused. Garth was the best person I've worked with all these years. ”

“Great Sam, call him, I already know exactly who to call. In fact, say that there will be a meeting today, at my house, we have to start this as soon as possible. I'll give you my address. ”

Dean wrote it down on a piece of paper where he lived and handed it to Sam who was already on the phone.  
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number quickly. The animated voice that answered made him smile.

“Hey Charlie! Guess what, we have a case! Tonight at home we are going to have a meeting. Yes ... I will take drinks and no, you don't need to take Uno. We're going to have too many things to do. Look, I'll tell you all later Okay? And Charlie ... Thank you. "

Sam had already hung up the phone and was watching Dean.

"Charlie? "

“Yes, she was one of my best agents and is also one of my few friends, if not the only one. She are an incredible woman. It will help us a lot. ”

"Well, then everything is fine, Garth will be at your house at 8 pm and ... Well do I need to take something? "

Dean smiled as he got up and headed for the door.

“Drinks my brother, we are going to need them to come up with the millennium plan! "

He left the room, leaving Sam with a confused look and a smile on his lips.

–––

Dean went to Bobby Singer's office and picked him up in the middle of a call.

"Yes, Mayor, we will resolve this quickly."

The man hung up and turned to Dean.

"Tell me you're going to solve this quickly, Winchester."

“Sammy and I are going to solve it. We have already found a team. ”

Bobby sighed and nodded.

“Great, do what you need, but nothing that draws much attention, the mayor does not want this to leak and much less that it happens again. Do you already know what you are going to do? "

"We have a big plan, leave it to us."

Bobby gave a sigh of relief and Dean left the room, rubbing his face.

They REALLY needed a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it and next week (probably) I'll post the next chapter.  
>  Kudos are very well accepted for the continuity of the fic, thank you! ♥


	3. The Poem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie, Dean, Garth and Sam think of a plan to be able to discover the identity of the killer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank everyone who is commenting and supporting this fic, seriously it is very important for me!  
> ♥

Dean had never seen his home that way.  
The room was bright and the sound of the conversation was lively.  
It was past 00:00 and everyone seemed much lighter than at the beginning.  
Sam already without a suit, the white shirt with some open buttons was a little dirty due to the cookies he had dropped on it without realizing it.  
Garth was a thin guy with a kind face, he was very quiet in the early evening, as if he feared being scolded at any moment.  
Now he was smiling and untied, he made silly jokes that never failed to make everyone burst out laughing.  
Charlie had arrived in a jacket, but she had already been lost somewhere in the room.  
The young redhead had been the soul of the meeting, giving the idea they needed.  
Without any shame or fear, she spoke in a loud tone to be heard.

"I HAVE THE PERFECT IDEA!"

Dean wiped his hands on his black shirt and spoke loudly as he grabbed another piece of pizza.

“HEAR THE QUEEN, SHE HAS SALVATION!”

everyone laughed and Charlie stood up on the small table.

“The Barn is a dating bar and we found unknown DNA in the cigarette, right Sammy? "

Sam nodded and took another sip of the beer in his hand.

“Probably our Song Killer chose his victims on these dating nights. What do you think, two of us go disguised as people in need of love and the other two as attendants ... ”

Everyone was silent, watching Charlie who smiled like a child.

"We offer them drinks, they will leave DNA in the glasses and ..."

Sam interrupts Charlie by continuing the thought of her smiling.

"So we can compare it with the DNA of the cigarette, if our killer is there, we will know."

“That Sammy! Easy, clean and fast! Isn't that what Bobby wanted Dean? "

Dean smiled and nodded as he finished another bottle of beer.

“Great, we all know who will make needy gays here, right? Dean and Sam, tell me your best poems and I will judge to see if they really do. ”

Said Garth laughing a little too loudly and everyone laughed with him.

After lots of drinks and laughter they were now trying to think of poems so that Sam and Dean would be the most interesting of the night.

“Garth writes poems did you know? "

Sam said, his face was red from the drink.

"SAM!"

Dean laughed when Garth blushed.

"Okay, maybe I have one".

Said Garth a little shy.

"Show us, it can save lives."

Dean said with a serious and focused face that because of the situation seemed quite comical.

Garth put one hand over his heart and the other toward the table full of bottles of drink, as if the person he loved was inside the pizza box.

“I want to tell you a secret in Braille.  
Then give me your body, everything is here at your fingertips .. ”

The room was silent and before Garth felt regret, everyone applauded enthusiastically.

"I think even I after that, I fell in love."

Charlie said loudly as he laughed.  
Dean finished another bottle of beer saying.

"I think it's great and it's just like Sammy, this is going to be yours."

Charlie laughed and said with his mouth full of Pizza.

"Really Sam, you go with that soft, naughty air."

Again the laughter filled the room.  
Dean hadn't been happy that way in a long time, if they weren't investigating a series of murders he could even say it was a perfect time.

"Now for you Dean ... What kind of poem?"

Said Garth thoughtfully.

"Hey hey, I have one saved for this moment."

Everyone made a sound of surprise.

“Do you also write poems? I really didn't expect this one! ”

Said Sam taking another sip of the beer that was in his hand.

Dean got up, went to the bedroom and stopped in a corner where there were lost boxes, one of them took a small flowered notebook, with a very old appearance.

"This is my mother's diary."

Said Dean as he returned to the living room with the notebook in his hands.

“She was completely in love with my father and wrote beautiful things when she was dating. Listen to this ... ”

Dean opened the notebook on an already marked sheet and jumping up on the wooden table, he started to read.

“I live alone within myself, like a hut within the woods; I keep my heart high upon the shelf, barren of other goods; I need another's arms to reach for it, and place it where it belongs. I need another's touch and smile, to fill my hut with songs.”

The room again fell silent. Then Sam spoke impressively.

"Look, you look like people who play low, but this is cowardly ..."

Everyone laughed and Charlie practically shouted to be heard amidst the laughter

"Poor Sammy, no one will want him after reading about Dean's heart on the shelf."

Again the room was filled with uncontrolled laughter and Dean let himself enjoy that moment, making a little bow before getting off the table.

While Sam went to the fridge for more beers, Garth took the case file.

“I really think this simple approach is valid, even if it seems organized by the way it leaves the crime scene, it really isn't.  
Leaving the cigarette shows that he was flawed for the first time, something made him nervous to the point that he forgot to clean all the tracks. I thought it was nothing passionate until that mistake. ”

Sam returned to the living room and handed the small bottles to everyone and lifted his own.

“I propose a toast! "

Everyone got up quickly and lifted their bottles.

"Charlie's simple plan, Garth's poem and of course the letter from Dean's mother."

Everyone agreed smiling and Dean spoke.

“And let's not forget to thank Sam for his insight into the ashtray! And of course, all of this will work, because if it doesn't, we will need a Bunker to protect ourselves from the shit bomb that will come. ”

Everyone laughed loudly and touched their bottles, Dean still with a smile on his lips finished all his drink at once recording every detail of that scene.  
He was really happy.

–––

When Friday night came, everything was going smoothly.  
Charlie and Garth had contacted the owner of the bar, who gave them the go-ahead to follow through with the plan.  
Both arrived earlier to visit the place, change their clothes and make ready everything they would need to collect the samples.

Sam and Dean would go in separate cars and ten minutes apart so no one would suspect they knew each other.

Dean hadn't known what it was like to go out on a date for a long time and he felt a little lost about what to use.  
Not just what to wear but what to talk about, how to act.  
He had flirted with men before but nothing like that, he had always been in the middle of a celebration, usually full of drinks where there wasn't much talk but empty sex.

He shaved and combed the hair he refused to cut.  
He looked in his closet for something that wasn't too social, he didn't want to look like a police officer, and he ended up with Jeans.  
The pants might have been too tight and the short-sleeved shirt too, and it would stick tightly to his body. Not much your type of clothing, but perhaps for the purpose it was necessary.  
He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed that it wasn't too bad.  
He decided to add a finishing touch by taking a dark blue scarf and putting it around his neck.  
He looked like a modern cowboy and smiled when he noticed that.  
He put on his usual perfume and left the house quickly, in his pocket the invitation with his mother's poem and in his mind the desire for everything to work out that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
>  I had to split this chapter in two because it was huge, so I'll probably post the other one this week too!  
>  ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean meets a strange man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised!  
>  Enjoy!

Again stuck in a traffic jam Dean fixed his listening.  
Everyone had a small headset and microphone to keep in touch during the plan.

"Does everyone hear me?"

A unanimous "Yes" came out of his phone and Dean couldn't help but smile.

"Boys, it looks like you're standing still tonight, we may not have to stay long"

Garth's voice came out in an animated tone, he didn't like working in the field, very much. Charlie's voice can be heard right away.

"Apparently we have the most beautiful boys in New York, there will be no man wanting to sit on them."

"CHARLIE!"

"CHARLIE!"

Sam and Dean spoke at the same time, eliciting a restrained laugh from Garth, while Charlie spoke again trying not to laugh.

"Sitting at the table WITH you people ... Not AT you ... Who would want that, right?"

Charlie and Garth were in a corner of the bar kitchen, trying to laugh quietly so as not to get too much attention.

"Okay, the cut is over. I'm coming."

Dean said when he spotted The Barn and started looking for a place to park.

"Look, it's the boss."

Said Charlie without any filter.

"Charlie ..."

Dean tried to remain serious, but his voice faltered with the laugh he couldn't contain.

"Focus, people I just joined, good luck to everyone.

Sam said in a slightly strained voice.

Everyone agreed and was silent.

The bar looked more like a restaurant that night.  
Sam sat at a table in the middle of the room.  
Her long hair looked softer and shinier than usual.  
He was wearing a white shirt covered by a dark blue velvet suit that gave an air of elegance so great that Garth and Charlie when they saw him gave an exclamation of surprise.

"Wow! Besides being beautiful, he is beautiful. ”

Sam controlled himself not to smile when he heard Charlie's voice.

The large dance floor was filled with tables with a pair of chairs each.  
The decor was simple, but beautiful and intimate.  
Charlie approached Sam, his attendant outfit looked a little big, but nothing that made it stand out too much. She smiled taking the invitation from the tallest hand with a silent wink.

At the entrance to The Barn was a large painting lined with red velvet, just at eye level.  
All the invitations would remain there, leaving the poems and their respective tables in view.  
As Charlie placed Sam's invitation on the board, Dean walked through the door with a slight sigh and headed for one of the most distant tables in the room.  
They needed to have a complete view because the if something looked suspicious they would be ready.  
Then again Charlie's voice was heard.

"Wow if I liked a man ..."

"Charlie!"

Garth's voice was heard trying to get the redhead to stop talking.

"Are you going to tell me that you don't think they're hot?"

Sam passed his hand over his mouth hiding a laugh, for him every minute that plan seemed more difficult.  
Dean sat down trying to stay serious, thinking the same thing.

The place was filling up and in a short time most of the tables were occupied with all kinds of men.

When the board on the door was completed, the doors were closed and a male voice was heard throughout the venue.

"Good evening! Now that all the candidates are here, we are going to free the entrance for those interested. Don't forget that we always value good education.  
If you disturb someone or someone disturbs you, our delicate security guards will be ready to remove you from the place, of course with all the sweetness in the world.  
The Barn wishes everyone a delicious evening! "

Soon after the announcement the doors were opened again.  
In an organized way, each person would go to the painting, pick up the poem he liked best and go to the corresponding table.  
If there was no mutual interest, the person would go back to the board, returning the card they had taken, being able to choose another one that was available.

Before Dean could get ready, a man who was old enough to be his father sat across from him.

"Hello, did you know that I am a cabinetmaker?"

Dean looked confused as he answered.

"Uh ... That's cool."

"That means I can reach your shelf easily, with my tools."

The man gave Dean a slight wink, who was pale and unresponsive.

Garth and Charlie laughed so loudly that Dean almost went deaf.  
At his desk, Sam feigned a cough to cover his laughter as he spoke to a boy with colored hair in front of him.

"Wow, this is ... Interesting, let's drink to it!"

Dean raised his hand, and Garth came to his table with a bucket of ice and a bottle of wine.  
He filled two glasses and walked away in silence, his face was red from the laughter.  
Charlie did the same with Sam, and they both managed to get to people in front of them to drink and soon after that they made excuses for them to leave.  
When they got up, Garth and Charlie took the glasses and carried them to the kitchen, placing them in an evidence bag.

After a while a boy who seemed too young to be in that place sat in front of Sam and with a smile said.

"Hey, you know what they say about tall men, right?"

"No, what does they say?"

Sam replied, afraid of the answer.

"That they can handle bigger things."

Said the man with a sly smile touching Sam's hand.

Dean who was taking a sip of wine, on hearing that he almost choked, taking a while to regain his air.  
Charlie and Garth was writhing again in a corner of the kitchen, and Sam gave an embarrassed laugh as he heard everyone's laughter at the listening.  
He withdrew the hand that the other was holding too tightly, took a deep breath and raised the wine glass for the boy to drink with him.

It really would be a long night.

–––

The hours passed and by their accounts Dean and Sam had talked and collected the DNA of everyone who had been present for that night.

Dean let himself drink another big sip of wine when he heard the sound of something falling on the table, when lowering the glass he met a pair of deep blue eyes.  
The man in front of him had smooth face.  
His short black hair was a little messy, he wore a khaki overcoat that looked a little big for him and only a dark blue tie over a white shirt was visible.  
Dean was left without reaction, the beauty of the unknown man had left him lost, and for a moment he forgot why he was there.

The silence remained, and the boy turned his face to the side, with an expression of mild curiosity, as if trying to discover something on Dean's face.

"Hi..."

Said the stranger making Dean come out of the small trance that had entered.

"Hello, I am..."

Before Dean could finish the sentence he felt the other's soft fingers on his lips preventing him from speaking.

"No names."

The stranger's voice was thick and deep and with a small smile he pulled his hand away from Dean's face, which stuttered a little.

"O ... Okay ..."

"Did you write that poem?"

Dean heard the other's fingers touch the invitation, where he had written his mother's poem, but his eyes never left.

"Yes..."

Again the brunette tilted his head, only this time with a touch of disapproval, his eyes narrowed and seemed to read something invisible.

"How sad. You are a liar."

The boy looked away, took the invitation and was about to get up.  
Dean took his arm instinctively.

"Hey, what happened, did I say something wrong?"

"I like real, deep connections, not lies."

"Come on, come on, what do you think about trying again? A wine can help us ..."

"No, thank you."

The brunette pulled his arm away from Dean's touch and stood up.  
Going directly to the door, he rubbed the small invitation on his coat as if he was cleaning it and placed it on the board, going through the exit door without looking back.

"Dean? Did he drink? Dean?"

Charlie's voice woke Dean out of his daydreams, so he responded still a little confused.

"No, he didn't touch the wine and rubbed the invitation over his coat before returning it to the board."

"Did anyone see where he came from? I don't remember him going to another table"

Said Garth somewhere in the hall.

"He came in now, took Dean's card and went straight over there."

Sam replied.

Dean was still unresponsive when a voice echoed through the speakers again.

"Frigay ends here, thank you very much for everyone who participated, and we hope they have warmed your hearts. See you next time!"

The tables started to empty, several couples headed for the exit.  
Sam got up and went towards the door, speaking into his microphone.

"We met at Dean's house, correct?"

"Yes!"

They all answered.

Garth and Charlie put all the glasses in suitcases and headed for the car parked behind the bar, leaving as quickly as possible without even taking off their uniforms.

Dean stood up in silence and walked towards his car, looking around pretending that he wasn't looking for the dark-haired boy who had left him speechless.  
He got into the vehicle and noticed that he was holding his breath, remembering the other's touch.  
What was happening?  
He looked at himself in the small mirror and saw a different glow in his eyes.  
He rubbed his face with both hands and tried to focus on something else.  
It had really been a different night, just that.  
He took a deep breath and started the car and gave himself up at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
>  Thank you for reading this far ♥


	5. The Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lost in thought, Dean decides to leave and meets an unexpected person.

Dean's house was again bright and noisy.  
On the kitchen table, the suitcases that would be taken to the laboratory the next day.  
The cups were labeled with the identity of each participant in the event, following the registration list given by the bar.  
And in the living room, the group was laughing about the best moments of the night.

Sam opened his third bottle of beer as he said.

"Seriously, I've never heard so much bad pick-up lines in my life and look, college is hard to beat!"

Dean was silent, after the drink had relaxed his body, he couldn't keep his mind from thinking about the blue-eyed guy.

"... don't you think Dean?

His name in Garth's voice woke him from his daydreams.

"What?"

"I commented on the last man at your table, we didn't collect his DNA and apparently he wasn't on the list either."

"So, we have no idea who he is? He didn't seem strange to me ..."

Sam said thoughtfully as he finished his beer.

" Exactly."

Garth replied, watching everyone.

Dean didn't know how to respond, his mind was in turmoil, he didn't understand why the stranger had caused such an uproar inside him.  
Charlie noticed the fatigue in his friend's expression and before he said anything she stood up.

"Okay guys, let's go home, for sure our Romeos are broken and well, I need a good shower."

Everyone agreed and within minutes Dean was already at the door saying goodbye to everyone.

As he hugged Charlie, he heard her friend's voice in her ear.

"Be okay… Anything, you can call me."

The redhead really knew him.  
He was feeling that emptiness wanting to dominate him again, but now the darkness inside him was confused with the blue of the stranger's eyes and Dean hoped it was just the drink.

He hugged Charlie tighter.

"Thank you, Char."

Everyone left and Dean closed the door.  
As he turned to the room, which was still messy, he sighed heavily.  
He was alone and maybe he always would be.  
No matter how good it felt, that feeling was always fleeting.  
He always left, like a small cloud of fine rain, in a dry land, desperate for water.

He decided to ignore the bottles that were still on the table and headed for the dark room.  
Without even changing his clothes or taking off his shoes, Dean threw himself on the big, fluffy bed and before he knew it, he was in for a dreamless night.

–––

Upon arriving near his office Dean came across Sam, who was waiting for him by the door with a large cup of coffee.

"Good morning Dean."

Dean smiled and took the hot cup from Sam saying.

"Rise and Shine Sammy."

Sam didn't understand what that phrase meant, but he smiled when Dean opened the door to the room and let him in.

"I took all the collected cups to the laboratory, it will probably take a while for the results to arrive, Charlie and Garth are analyzing the profiles of each candidate we met yesterday. If any of them have a background or something more obscure, we'll find out."

Dean nodded and sat in his chair while Sam settled on the small, comfortable sofa in the room.

"Are you okay Dean?"

"Yes, just worried. This guy can't kill again."

Dean drank coffee eagerly, as if he was going to drown in the dark liquid.  
Sam had enough time to analyze Dean, during the days they worked together and something worried him a lot.  
The facility for addiction.  
The speed he drank, the sudden spikes of happiness, followed by extreme moodiness, left Sam with an alert about the mental health of his partner who he now considered a friend.  
He had brought coffee, as he knew that the first thing Dean drank in the morning was alcohol. Coffee was not doing very well either, but it seemed the best way, at least for now.

"How are you, Sam?"

Dean watched Sam with a curious look, in his hand the coffee cup was already empty.

"I just remembered that man. The one in the overcoat."

Dean looked away, as if Sam could read his mind.

"I don't think it's a big deal."

"Why would he clean up the card? And why come and go without even talking to someone else? He wasn't on the list the bar gave us, doesn't that seem strange to you at all?"

Dean's memory of last night was, so vivid that he could hear Harry's husky voice again.

"No names."

"What?"

"He didn't say his name, and he didn't even want to know mine"

Sam watched him with a slight concern in his eyes.

"We should go back to the bar and see if anyone knew him, don't you think?"

Dean said no with his head and stood up.

"Yeah but, he just looked like a guy who wasn't interested in me. Nothing else."

Dean was thoughtful when he heard his own voice, why was he so defensive about the man he didn't even know?  
He knew that Sam was right, everything pointed to something suspicious.  
He needed to clear his mind.  
He couldn't put that whole case down.  
So, he is decided to do what gave him the most joy and made him think best.

Dean stood up without taking in much of what Sam was saying.

"Well, at least the amount of samples we got make me better. Where are you going?"

Dean was already at the door of the room with the car key in his hand and without turning to Sam, he said out loud.

"I'm going to eat pie."

"What?"

Before Sam could understand, Dean was already gone.

–––

The other days had passed without feeling. The results had not yet come out and Garth, and Charlie had already analyzed half of the Frigay participants and found nothing unusual.  
Dean was going home, but he would leave his room key with Sam, who wanted to do some research in a quiet place and was too sleepy to return to the hotel.

"Feel free Sammy, my room is your room."

Sam smiled and placed his notebook on Dean's desk.

"Thanks Dean, good night"

"Night."

On the way home, Dean's mind was confused and when he arrived, he sighed deeply.  
He was never ready to face the darkness and loneliness that this place had for him.  
Then went to the small bar to follow his sleeping ritual. But when he picked up the bottle, noticed that it was empty.

\- Shit.

He controlled the urge to throw the bottle on the floor, as he didn't want to have to sweep the glass like last time.  
So, he just went to the door and left.

He thought about using the car again but before he knew it he was already walking through the empty streets of New York.  
With his hands in his pockets, Dean looked at the signs without really seeing them.  
He turned the corner of his block knowing there was a market nearby, where he could buy another bottle of liquor and solve his problem.  
In the front of the establishment there was a fruit stand.  
He always found it strange to be selling fruits at night, so, he stopped to look at them.  
With a sigh he took a big orange and thought that maybe it would be good to buy some, orange juice always helped him on hangover days.  
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice that made his throat dry.

"Hey ..."

Dean looked up, and there he was, the man he had met at The Barn.  
He was wearing the same clothes as the last time he had seen him. His hair was still tousled and his eyes were brighter than ever.

"Hi..."

Dean probably looked confused as the other said with a laugh.

"Remember me?"

How could he not remember? The only thing Dean had done in the past few days was remember him.

"Of course. .. You are Mr. I Don't Like Lies"

Dean looked away from the man in front of him and focused on the fruit again. Why was he so nervous?

"Sorry, but you didn't really tell the truth, did you?

Said the other laughing and with that Dean looked at him again.

"Well, I told the truth, you asked me if I had written the poem, I did, it was my handwriting."

The stranger let out a laugh that made Dean laugh together.

"Okay then ... Did you create that poem?"

"No."

"No?"

"My mom made it. She wrote it for my dad."

Dean had no idea why he was being so sincere, but it was like he just couldn't lie to that pair of sky-colored eyes.

"Okay, you won ... My name is Castiel and you are?"

Castiel held out his hand to Dean, who released the orange with a loud noise that again made the two laugh.

"Dean."

"Hello Dean."

At the touch of his hands, Dean felt his body crawl, as if he had received a small shock.

"Are you lost here, Castiel?"

Still holding the hand of the other, Castiel replied smiling.

"Not really much, I'm living at the end of this street, at least for now, I'm not from here."

Dean let go of the other's hand, even without meaning to and answered.

“So we are almost neighbors, I live at the end of the street too, only on the other side."

Castiel smiled, and Dean didn't breathe for a few seconds. It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

"Tell me Dean, do you know any cool places around here?"

"There's a great bar on the back street."

"Is that an invitation or just information?"

Dean gave a little laugh and walked away from the fruit table, standing next to Castiel.

"An invitation. Come on."

Castiel nodded, and they started walking towards the bar.

"So, new to New York?"

"Yes and no. I always liked to come here, the bars, clubs, restaurants. They are incredible!"

"Now are you here to stay?"

"I don't really know, this city has become an escape for me."

Before Dean could say anything, Castiel said excitedly.

"Is it over there? Wow, it looks like an old west bar. Your style, right, Cowboy?"

The bar was a tribute to an old Patrick Swayze film, Road House, one of Dean's most beloved films.

"This bar is my favorite. I think you'll like it."

They went in and decided to sit near the counter, because there the drinks arrived faster.  
The bar was not very crowded, but the noise of conversation and laughter dominated the air and when ordering two large glasses of beer Dean turned to Castiel raising his mug.

"Cheers to coincidences!"

Castiel touches Dean's mug with his, making a small sound.

"Cheers to destiny!"

Again Dean smiled and was left speechless, and they both took large sips of the cold liquid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
>  Kudos and comment make me very happy and motivated!


End file.
